


When The Seagulls Cry

by roryheadmav, Snakecharmed79



Series: Roadtrip Variations [1]
Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF, Tomki - Fandom, frostpudding - Fandom
Genre: Frostpudding, M/M, Tomki, commission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-02
Updated: 2014-06-02
Packaged: 2018-02-03 04:41:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1731509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roryheadmav/pseuds/roryheadmav, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snakecharmed79/pseuds/Snakecharmed79
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Commission by Snakecharmed79 based on her prompt and art by Marty-Mc. First of two stories in the "Roadtrip Variations". Tom meets a mysterious biker who takes him on a romantic roadtrip through Rome.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When The Seagulls Cry

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Snakecharmed79](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snakecharmed79/gifts).



**WHEN THE SEAGULLS CRY**

**Copyright June 1, 2014 By Snakecharmed79 (Written by Rory)**

 

 

It had been one incredible summer for Tom. He never expected that his small acting job would pay so much (with the added promise of meatier roles in the future). Although he was, by nature, frugal, he thought that, for once, he should treat himself to a much needed vacation all over Europe. After all, as soon as he graduated from RADA, he immersed himself immediately in one job after another.

 

Tom loved his tour of European cities; he already visited Paris, Milan and Berlin. While he had tried to keep within his budget, staying in cheap accommodations and dining at cafes, he never realized that he had already stretched his cash on hand and his credit card too thinly.

 

So, when he found himself in Rome, Tom discovered that he literally could not go anywhere, certainly not with the money he had left and which was sufficient enough for a couple of meals and an economy flight back to England. It had entered his mind to call up his mother or his sister Sarah, but this was _his_ vacation, and he definitely wouldn't want to trouble his family when he had sternly told them that he didn't need anything from them.

 

Tom sat forlorn on the edge of the Fontana di Trevi. Because it was still early morning, there were very few tourists in the vicinity, although a number of Italians were already passing by, in a rush to get to their respective workplaces.

 

Gazing at the stern statue of Neptune flanked by two Tritons at the fountain's edge, Tom sighed. _It looks like you're the only attraction that I'll be seeing in this city._

 

His attention was drawn to two American girls. Giggling, they turned around with their backs to the fountain and then, sweeping their right hands gracefully over their shoulders, tossed coins into the fountain, falling with soft plops in the water.

 

Wanting to follow their example, Tom pulled out a grubby coin from inside his shorts pocket. Briefly, he wondered if the Trevi Fountain could take coins of lower denominations. Shrugging, he decided to take the chance. He wanted so much to visit Rome in the very near future again anyway.

 

Tom stood up, tucking his backpack in between his long, bare legs and worn hiking boots. As he lifted his head, a gentle breeze ruffled his curly, golden locks soothingly. Flipping the coin once in the air, he threw it over his shoulder.

 

**_CLINK!_ **

 

That metallic sound was not what Tom had expected and, for a moment, he thought the coin had missed or, worse, struck a statue and chipped its Travertine stone face.

 

As he turned around though, he saw his coin, together with a second coin which had struck it in mid-air, fall into the fountain's waters. The two coins even settled together at the bottom, the second one lying on top of his.

 

It was then that he noticed the biker standing a few feet away from him. Tom's eyes widened; with the notable exception of his straight black hair, they looked exactly alike so that they could be mistaken for twins.

 

The man was dressed in a short-sleeved black leather jacket, but with no shirt underneath. Tattooed on his arms were ebony raven's wings; he could make out the scaly coils of a serpent around his belly. A lone black motorcycle, obviously his, was parked in the small parking lot outside the fountain area. Tom could vaguely make out a letter S, which also appeared to be in the design of a snake, and four runic letters, which he could not read from his distant position.

 

The biker was equally staring back at him, emotions fleeting through his bright green eyes with rapidity. Foremost among these emotions was shock, because the biker could also see their incredible likeness.

 

Feeling flustered by that intense stare, Tom gestured to their coins and stammered sheepishly, "I'm very sorry about that. But at least our coins fell into the fountain and…"

 

The biker strode toward him, his jacket flying open so that Tom could see the tattoo of a horse—and it has _eight legs_!—prancing across his firm pectorals.

 

 _God, he's going to hit me!_ He thought in fright as he watched the man raise his right arm.

 

Before he could take an evasive step back, the biker seized his arm and spun him around. Tom gasped as he was dropped into the man's left arm in what was obviously a dip. His blue gray eyes blinked owlishly as the biker gave him a deep kiss, his gloved right hand cupping Tom's face. And— _Damnation!_ —he was returning the kiss with equal ardor.

 

When claps and cheers erupted from passersby, who had stopped to watch with delight their public display of affection, Tom blushed in embarrassment.

 

With his cheeks burning and lips tingling, Tom didn't realize that the biker had ended the kiss, although his face still hovered above him, much too close for comfort.

 

"I'm Loki Laufeyson. May I have the pleasure of your name?"

 

Tom was grateful that he could still get his tongue to work and stutter a reply. "T…t…Tom…Tom Hiddleston." Recalling the biker's name though, he found himself blurting out the first stupid question that came to his mind. "You're named after the Norse God of Mischief??"

 

For some reason, Loki's laughter sounded like the tinkle of chimes in the wind.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

"Whu tit yu it po?"

 

"Huh?"

 

_"Huwut dit yu wit por?"_

 

"Tom, I suggest you finish chewing your cornetto. I don't want you choking to death."

 

The two men were at a small café in Piazza Navona. After narrating his tale of woe to the biker at the fountain and embarrassing himself further with his growling tummy, Loki had invited Tom to join him for a late breakfast. The café that the biker had taken him to had very cheap prices in their menu, but the food was surprisingly good, serving breakfast meals representative of the various regions of Italy. Tom never realized how hungry he was until the smiling waitress served them cornettos, krumiri cookies, and juicy 'nduja (a spicy sausage) on large platters. He just started shoveling bread and meat into his mouth while taking sips of steaming cappuccino.

 

In contrast, Loki ate very little—choosing a small seadas (fried crepe with honey and pecorino cheese) and a glass of zabaione—and, instead, contented himself with watching the man before him.

 

Tom took a long drink of water and thumped his chest for good measure. He repeated his question. "What did you wish for?"

 

"Of all the things you could ask me!" Loki exclaimed in disbelief. He then stated dryly with one eyebrow raised. "I believe that is my private business."

 

"What are you doing here in Rome? Are you a tourist too?"

 

"That is also my private business…" Seeing the resentful pout on Tom's face, Loki sighed. "Alright! I could tell you this much. I wanted to see Rome one last time. I…I might never get the chance again."

 

"But, you threw a coin in the Trevi Fountain. I have no reason to doubt the legends about the fountain. I'm sure you will return to Rome soon."

 

"The wish I made on that coin was a different one."

 

At this statement, Loki became tight-lipped, and Tom knew better than to pry.

 

"In my case," Tom went on, "I do have every intention to come back here, that's why I tossed a coin in the fountain. Kinda like insurance. I just don't have enough money anymore to see the sights. I need it more for the return trip to London."

 

"Who says you can't see the sights that Rome has to offer?" Loki quickly countered. "Listen, I'm staying in the city up to nightfall. I'd be very happy to show you some of the key attractions at the very least. That is, if you have no aversion to riding behind me on my bike."

 

"Of course not!" Tom exclaimed excitedly. "There's nothing I would like more than to be able to see Rome's attractions. But…are you sure you don't mind? My impression is that you wanted some solitude on this trip."

 

"At first I did," Loki confessed truthfully. "But I think you'll make pleasant company." That last was stated with a hint of mystery. "So, where do you want to go?"

 

Tom's answer was immediate. Standing from his seat, he declared, **_"THE COLOSSEUM!"_**

 

Loki rolled his eyes. "Why is it that every tourist wants to see the Colosseum? Rome has other sights, you know."

 

"Then show me, Loki!" Tom dared the biker. "You are the God of Mischief, right? You can grant my wish?"

 

"But of course. Your wish is my command," Loki replied, reaching across the table and squeezing Tom's hand.

 

In his joy and excitement, Tom did not think to pull his hand back. He even gave Loki's fingers an equally eager squeeze.

 

"Very well," Loki said, as he got to his feet. "Let's go around Piazza Navona first, starting with Fontana dei Quattro Fiumi and then let's take a quick peek inside Sant' Agnese in Agone Church."

 

Tom had already slung his backpack over his shoulder. "Just lead on, my friend!"

 

As the biker took the lead, Tom never noticed the small, hopeful smile that quirked up the corners of Loki's lips.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Loki made good on his promise. For the first two or three hours, the biker wheeled him around Rome on his Honda, showing him lesser known attractions which Tom was not aware of before.

 

Stopping at the Piazza di Spagna, they proceeded to go up the 135 steps of the Scalinata della Trinità dei Monti.  As they walked around the area, Loki showed him the Trinità dei Monti church, the Giorgio De Chirico House, and the Keats-Shelley Memorial House, which inspired Tom to recite poetry at the top of his lungs, much to the delight of the other tourists and the chagrin of the biker.

 

As they roamed around the city, Loki would always say that he knew a short cut. Happy and excited as he was, Tom never observed the faint shimmering of his surroundings whenever they negotiated the biker's short cuts.

 

At Loki's insistence, they made a half hour stop at the Arch of Constantine. The biker could barely contain his guffaws as Tom marched through the center arch with a crown of olive leaves—more like a nest actually—around his head and waving his hand like a triumphant emperor or a demented beauty queen. Tom later laid the silly crown on Loki's head and prompted the mortified biker to do the same. To humor his exuberant companion, Loki decided to go one better by peeling off his jacket, giving Tom an eyeful of his trim torso and its elaborate tattoos. As he strode toward the opposite side of the arch, Tom gaped in awe at the tattoo of a snarling wolf on his back. Loki projected the right amount of arrogance as he marched through the arch.

 

Giggling, Tom gave him a bunch of long grasses as a tribute. For his part, Loki seized him by the waist, his hand slipping down to cup his taut butt. "You shall pleasure me tonight, my slave."

 

"But Your Majesty", Tom argued demurely, squirming as Loki gave one buttock a squeeze, "the people await you in the Colosseum."

 

The biker caught that not-so-subtle hint.

 

When they arrived at the Colosseum, Tom was about to jump down from the Honda, but Loki stopped him. "Let's do this right." Before Tom could ask what was up, the biker wheeled them over to the largest entrance. Parking his bike, Loki took Tom's hand and led him toward the entrance.

 

"This is the Porta Triumphalis, Tom, where the gladiators entered at the start of the games," Loki intoned as he brought his companion through. "Just imagine walking through this Gate of Life and you are accompanied by the sounds of horns and drums. Then, when you emerge into the arena itself, you are blasted by the cheers of the crowd."

 

Indeed, Tom could clearly picture the scene inside his mind as he gaped in stupefaction at the stands above him. In his imagination though, it was filled with cheering people dressed in tunics or white togas. A distance in front of him was the podium where the Roman emperors sat and decided the fates of the gladiators fighting in the arena.

 

Loki next drew his attention toward the cells which have been excavated at the bottom of the Colosseum. "That is the hypogeum, an underground network of cells and tunnels. It was here that the gladiators waited for their turn to fight. Some of these cells used to contain wild animals which were released into the arena via trap doors. It was also here that criminals and Christians were imprisoned until they were sent up into the arena to be executed."

 

The biker's voice was hypnotic as he continued to narrate about those ancient times. To Tom, it felt like he was transported into another time. There were moments when he thought he could actually see the ghosts of fighting gladiators or Christians kneeling on the ground and praying, waiting for death to come at the sharp claws and fangs of a lion. But these images would vanish in wisps of green vapor.

 

Loki brought him to the opening at the other end, which he called the Porta Libitinensis or Gate of Death. Tom found himself in a large, dark chamber.

 

"The spoliarium," Loki explained solemnly. "This was where the wounded, the dying and the dead were taken. They were stripped of their garments and weapons, for future use by others. Gladiators were either buried or burned in a funeral pyre. As for the rest, they were either burned in a heap or just thrown into the river."

 

There was a soft sob. Loki turned to see Tom with tears streaming down his face. "The spectacle, the horror…" Tom whispered. There was still the faint scent of blood and death in the air. "I don't want to imagine how many people died in this place."

 

"And humans say that we gods are cruel," Loki could not help musing wryly. "In their myths and legends, they chronicle our misdeeds and, yet, they need to be constantly reminded that they are more capable of heinous acts of violence and cruelty than us."

 

Tom stared at Loki, perplexed by his statement. The biker, however, shook himself back to the present. "Come! Let's go to some place less gloomy."

 

Wiping away the tears from his eyes, Tom hurried after Loki, who had walked ahead of him. When they reached the parking lot though, he was surprised at the large number of seagulls in the area. Most were perched on the rocks. Some strutted right in the middle of the street. Even Loki seemed stunned at first at the sight of the birds, but then he smiled at the seagulls in what was obviously relief and gratitude.

 

Noting the questioning look in the man beside him, Loki explained, "That's because we're near the Tiber and the sea, their sources of food." The biker paused, wondering if he should continue. In the end, he breathed out, "Personally though, I like to believe the seagulls fly and wander through the city because they are grieving."

 

"Grieving for whom?" Tom inquired as a chill crept up his spine.

 

"For those who are dead and those who will follow after the ones who have departed. You should hear their cries at night, Tom. There's nothing like it in the world. Somehow, it is such a consolation to know that someone will cry and mourn when we depart from this mortal coil."

 

Abiding an irresistible urge, Tom wrapped his arms around Loki's waist and laid his head against his back.

 

"That is much too sad, Loki," he muttered hoarsely, his tears falling upon the biker's nape. "If I should lose someone I care for, I know I shall mourn and weep, together with the seagulls."

 

Loki said something in reply, but it was drowned out by the roar of the Honda as he kickstarted it to life.

 

Nevertheless, Tom had heard him clearly. "Would you mourn for me when I'm gone, Tom?"

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Loki was not completely able to shake off the melancholy which had gripped him. Worried for his companion, Tom tried everything he could to cheer him up.

 

After a quick lunch at a roadside eatery, they headed off to the Giardino degli Aranci. This time, it was Tom who took the initiative, dragging the biker along through the quaint walkways. At first Loki could not be shaken from his despondency, sitting on a bench beside Tom, fingernails scratching over the rubbery peel of the fruit that the younger man had bought for him. He was given a rude jolt though when Tom smashed his peeled orange right into Loki's face and then fled for dear life, laughing, as the biker snarled and gave chase. To his credit, Tom allowed himself to be caught, and Loki gave him a tender kiss, tinged with the sweet and sour taste of orange juice. He even tucked a rose he had plucked in Tom's left ear, which made his cheeks color into a similar shade.

 

Tom held on to the rose as they made their way to Aventine Hill.

 

At the ornate gateway to Villa del Priorato di Malta, Loki motioned to the iron gate. "Why don't you look through the keyhole, Tom?"

 

Curious, Tom bent down and peered through, a broad smile going up his lips. "It's Saint Peter's Basilica! Amazing! It's like I'm looking through the viewfinder of an old film camera, but…" He pressed his hand to the dark gray iron gate. "I wonder what's behind this gate."

 

"The secret garden of the Knights of Malta, or so they say. I think it's something better though." There was a twinkle of mischief in Loki's emerald eyes. "Let's take a look!"

 

"Loki, no!" Tom shook his head. "We might get arrested for trespassing."

 

But the biker pushed on the gate, which was surprisingly open, and pulled Tom inside with him.

 

Tom's jaw dropped, finding himself in a magnificent garden, the likes of which he had never seen before. He had never seen so many flowers in his entire life and they were all in full bloom, so that the garden was awash with rainbow colors. In one corner was an orchard with the trees laden with what looked like golden apples.

 

Awestruck as he was, Tom never noticed the shimmering green aura surrounding the garden. It also never occurred to him that he could no longer see St. Peter's Basilica in the distance, even though it was clearly visible earlier through the gate's keyhole.

 

Loki slowly turned him around, replacing the rose in his ear. As the biker laid his hands on his hips, Tom threw his arms around his neck and met his face in a heated kiss, their tongues dueling, tasting each other's mouths. Abandoning himself to the emotions that were being aroused inside his heart, Tom permitted Loki to lay him down on the soft, fragrant grass. There they lay, kissing and feeling each other's bodies. Emboldened, Tom even reached for Loki's waistband, his fingers dipping low and brushing against something hard.

 

It was Loki, however, who drew back first, and the deep regret on his face nearly broke Tom's heart.

 

"Loki, please," Tom begged him. "I want you to. Truly."

 

"And I want you, Tom, more than anything else, but…"

 

"Then why? Earlier, you implied that you were going somewhere. Could you at least tell me where so I could find you? Why not have _me_ now, so you can never forget about me?" Sudden realization tore through Tom's being. "Loki…are you…dying?"

 

Loki heaved a burdened sigh as he stood up, taking Tom with him. Unseen to his distraught companion, the biker had let the illusion drop, giving them a clear view of the late afternoon sun.

 

Smiling sadly, Loki said, "There's one last place I want to show you."

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

With the exception of the rumble of the Honda as they rode through the Appian Way, the two men traveled in relative silence. Tom wanted to say something, anything to ease the biker before him, but what could he say? Instead, he hugged Loki, pressing butterfly kisses at his nape, shoulders and back.

 

There was a soft chuckle. A response, at last! "If you keep doing that, Tom, we're going to crash," Loki remarked jokingly.

 

"But at least we'll be together," Tom answered, which caused Loki to lapse back into silence.

 

They soon arrived at their destination—a promontory overlooking the Tiber. Tom felt his heart sink at the sight of the hundreds of seagulls standing solemnly on the grass and rocks. The birds turned as one to Loki; it was obvious that they were waiting for him. As the sun set at the horizon, it gave the place a somber atmosphere which disheartened Tom even further.

 

Loki got down from the bike. Without saying a word to his confused companion, he unstrapped Tom's backpack from the Honda and laid it down carefully on the grass.

 

The fond pat that Loki gave to his motorcycle did not escape Tom's notice. He also did not fail to hear the biker murmur reassuringly, "We're going home now, my children."

 

Then, Loki strode toward the promontory's edge. Alarmed, Tom got off the Honda and ran after him. Tom swiftly grabbed his wrist with both hands. "Loki, no! Please! I don't know what's wrong with you, what happened to you in the past, but I won't let you kill yourself! I won't! I can't bear to lose you this way!"

 

"I'm not going to die, Tom, although I wish I could," Loki answered with a regretful grimace. "I've lived for millennia, practically watched humanity grow, develop, and deteriorate over the passage of time. I wasn't lying to you, you know. I am truly Loki, the Norse God of Mischief."

 

"What? I…I don't understand," Tom asked in confusion.

 

"There was a time when we lesser gods interacted with humanity, functioned as their guardians so to speak. However, we were not good teachers. The Supreme Being banished us from the mortal world in the hope that you humans will start afresh and lose the evil taint that we had inflicted upon you. But the damage has been done. With the passing of centuries, man has surpassed us in viciousness, violence, and cruelty. While there are still many who are good among you, they are overwhelmed by the evil, selfish deeds of the bad." Loki breathed in deeply. "I wanted to see this world one last time before it falls completely into ruin."

 

"Is that your wish, Loki? Your wish upon the fountain?"

 

Loki shook his head. "No, Tom." Tears glimmered in his green eyes as he gazed at the younger man. "I've been a very evil god. I've done so many crimes, so many sins, both in Asgard and here on Earth, which I could never atone for. And, yet, for all the things I've done, I have only one wish. My wish…was that I could find someone who could love me."

 

"And I do love you, Loki!" Tom insisted.

 

"A single day is not sufficient time for you to determine your true feelings for me, but I will forever be grateful for your kindness and your thoughtfulness toward me this day."

 

"Won't you give me more time to get to know you better? Please, Loki. Just one year is all I ask."

 

"I'm sorry, Tom, but I truly cannot stay. It hurts too much to see my mistakes always being thrust in my face. I'm an evil Norse god; that's what I'll always be." Loki reached out and caressed Tom's cheek. "And I have this fear that I might corrupt you."

 

"If only you would give me a chance, you'd see that I'm incorruptible." Tom lifted his head in determination. "Very well, if you're that determined to leave me, I give you this promise. I will make people change the way they think about you. I don't know how I'll do it, but I shall."

 

"Hah!" Loki exclaimed in incredulity. "And I wish you the best of luck in that!"

 

"But if I succeed, you must come back to me."

 

"You know I can't promise you that."

 

**_"Swear!"_ **

 

But again, there was that sad little shake of his head. With a cry, Tom embraced the biker hard. He would never have let go if he didn't feel an aura of chilling cold emanating from the god before him. Still keeping his hands on Loki's arms, he watched, astounded, as his leather garments turned into dark green robes with gold and silver trimmings. The tattoos peeled away from his body, changing into a wolf and a great serpent on either side of him. Coming up from behind him, a gray stallion with eight legs joined them, nuzzling Loki's face tenderly. All four of them were gradually dissolving into tiny green lights before his eyes. The seagulls flapped their wings and began crying out.

 

"Goodbye, Tom," Loki whispered, his form dissipating into the darkening sky. The seagulls took flight then, letting out heartbreaking mournful caws as they flew amidst the lights, their sounds echoing across the Tiber.

 

"No, Loki," Tom said, weeping, reaching out for that last green light which flickered into nothingness as the day at last turned to night. " _Arrivederci._ Till we meet again."

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

**_Six years later…_ **

 

Tom was again sitting on the edge of the Fontana di Trevi, a bit older now, more mature, if one were to base it upon his elegant attire of a fine white silk shirt, deep blue vest, blue and black striped tie, and tailored pants.

 

The press conference and photocall for his movie at the De Russie Hotel ended thirty minutes ago and he had taken leave of his co-stars, their director and producer if he could roam around the city alone for a bit. To his relief, they said yes.

 

There were a few changes since he had last been to Rome, but at the same time, it still retained its ancient grandeur. And Loki had become a part of this timeless city.

 

Tom had made good on his promise to the Norse god. Upon his return to England, he had read every book he could find on Norse mythology, including various translations of the Eddas. Loki was right; the tales did depict him as an evil god, a sharp contrast to the man he had known during that brief time. The same was also true with the comic books, although one writer gave the Norse God of Mischief a troubled childhood, which aroused a twinge of sympathy inside his heart.

 

However, when he was actually given the chance to play Loki in film, not just once but twice, Tom threw himself into the character, bringing in elements from the god he had briefly known. With his emotional portrayal, Tom succeeded in his goal. Now, Loki's sentiments were not only understood by people, many have even grown to love him.

 

The only thing left now was for a promise to be fulfilled. If there ever was one. Tom remembered that Loki never really answered when he demanded that he'd swear to return.

 

Tom got up and looked down at the silver dollar in his palm. Closing his eyes, he made a wish, the one wish that truly mattered to him. Breathing in deeply, he eased his right hand over his left shoulder and let the coin fly toward the fountain.

 

Tom felt his heart leap at that familiar clink. Looking back, he saw two coins drop into the fountain, forming a perfect stack at the bottom.

 

A bright, tear-filled smile formed on Tom's face as he whirled toward the grinning figure standing behind him.

 

"Welcome back, Loki."

 


End file.
